


A Little Give and Take

by arghthecat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:58:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arghthecat/pseuds/arghthecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Sam and Dean don't have any money for Christmas gifts, so Sam improvises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Give and Take

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've written in awhile so any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

Dean’s sprawled across the couch watching Thundercat reruns when he hears the loud rumble of the Impala pulling into their motel parking lot. It’s late, well past the time that he should even be awake, but he’s always had one directive: protect Sammy. He couldn’t very well do that while they were both asleep and vulnerable to the any creature able to get past their wards, so Dean slept little and light. The few moments that he did manage were fitful and he almost always woke up grasping at thin air terrified that he’d failed somehow, his subconscious telling him often that he could never protect Sam. But Sam’s still there, whole and sleeping peacefully in their twin bed. 

Dean quickly shuts off the t.v., rests his head on the arm of the worn motel couch and tries to feign sleep. Time seems to pass slowly as he waits for John to open the motel door and he tries not to get too excited because he’s ten, not five. He’s long since stopped caring about the holidays, stopped wondering when they’d finally stop long enough to have a proper Christmas, but there’s still the childlike flutter of hope nestled deep, but faint just hoping that this Christmas would be different. 

He doesn’t expect John to walk in with a bag full of toys, but he secretly wants the model car he saw in the mall when he took Sam out after he begged over and over. 

Dean squirms a bit on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position even as the weathered fabric provides little to no cushion from the solid frame. He wasn’t expecting to take up residence on the couch so he didn’t bring a pillow or a blanket and he knows that his neck will be sore for the rest of the week if he doesn’t move. 

The chill of the motel air conditioning nips at his exposed feet and Dean tries to huddle in on himself to retain some of the heat but he knows it’s a lost cause. So, he closes his eyes and makes a valiant effort to try to get in a few hours of sleep before John wakes them up for their morning training. 

Dean’s almost asleep when the motel door finally opens and John creeps inside, shutting the door carefully behind him. If he were to wake Sam at this hour he knows that he’d never get Sam back to sleep, his excitement bubbling over after not having seen his dad in weeks. 

John sets his duffle on the table, flicks on the overhead light closest to their little kitchen and sets to checking all of the warding around their room. If the slight, barely there quirk of his lips is any indication, he’s pleased to see that the salt lines remain unbroken. Dean can’t help but feel a little swell of pride at having put that smile there. 

John walks towards him and Dean quickly closes his eyes, hoping that John hasn’t noticed that he isn’t asleep. He hasn’t noticed though and heads straight towards Sam’s bed. Dean doesn’t turn around in his spot on the couch, but he knows what scene would greet him if he did. It’s almost like a ritual. Whenever John comes home he goes over to Sam’s bed, strokes gentle fingers through his hair, and places a barely there kiss to his forehead before going to the shower to wash away the dirt and grime from whatever creature he’d been hunting. 

Dean doesn’t dwell on the fact that his dad doesn’t come to check on him once after he gets out of the shower and crawls into the bed closest to the door. He lets the knowledge that he’s been able to do his job and keep his baby brother safe pull him under for a few hours. 

xx

The sun is shining brightly when Dean finally opens his eyes and he starts when he realizes that he’s slept in. He can’t remember the last time that he’s slept past 6 o’clock and he can’t help the intense panic that threatens to bubble over at having left Sammy vulnerable for so long. John’s rumbling voice cuts through his freakout though and he quickly remembers that he didn’t leave Sam alone, that his dad was there to protect him for a change. 

It’s always strange when the weight of “protect Sammy” is lessened with John’s presence but Dean doesn’t forget, he can’t. Still, he pushes all of it aside for just a few moments when he hears Sam’s tiny laugh echo throughout the motel. He almost goes straight to the kitchen to ruffle Sam’s hair in the way that he hates and pour himself a bowl of cereal but his bladder is giving a painful protest at the idea. So, he trudges towards the startling light of the bathroom. 

The tiles are cold against his feet and not for the first time does Dean wish they could stay at nicer places where the heating worked or the plumbing didn’t turn a strange brown occasionally. But this was his life and he couldn’t complain, he wouldn’t. Because he’d seen more than any ten-year-old should and he knew that there were people out there suffering in other ways he couldn’t even begin to process. So Dean splashed some frigid water on his face, not wanting to wait until it inevitably heated up, did his business and padded across the hotel floor to where John and Sam’s laughter was still permeating the walls of their temporary home. 

He catches sight of Sam’s bright smile as he sits across the table from John, the man himself trying hard not to laugh as Sam makes the most ridiculous face he can muster. Something unfurls in Dean’s chest at the sight of it, this intense heat under his ribs radiating throughout his limbs and he quickly recognizes what the feeling is: happiness. It comes whenever Sam runs to him and tells him something new he’s learned or when he looks at Dean like he’s something, like he’s actually something. He’d dare anyone to take in his little brother and not fall instantly. 

“Hey turd” he says in greeting as he grabs the box of Frosted Flakes and the largest bowl he can find. He takes advantage of the fact that he can eat the entire box in one sitting and there’d be more in the morning. It’s a miniscule sense of security that he clings to even as he wishes that he didn’t have to worry about whether or not there’ll be enough bran to last them the next two days. 

“Not a turd” Sam says petulantly as he reaches out in an attempt to push Dean before he hops out of his reach. “Keep being mean to me and you’re gonna stay here by yourself” he adds as Dean actually does ruffle his hair after finally taking his seat at the table. 

“Going? Where to?” he asks as he pours milk into the bowl, the liquid sloshing dangerously over the sides.

Sam perks up even more, if that was even possible. 

“Daddy’s taking us out for Christmas!” he says. Sam’s excitement is evident in the way he’s nearly bouncing out of his chair and Dean risks a glance over to his dad who’s looking on affectionately. Dean doesn’t want to burst Sam’s bubble and tell him that Christmas was over two weeks ago, so he keeps his mouth shut and swallows down large spoonfuls of his favorite cereal. 

He drowns out Sam and his dad as he munches and doesn’t even try to act civilized and goes instead for loudly slurping as he drinks his milk directly from the bowl. 

He’s wiping his mouth when Sam gets up from his chair and practically skips over to him. 

“Aren’t you gonna ask where we’re going?” Sam questions and it isn’t really accusatory. Sam hasn’t quite mastered the art of subtle confrontation, but it’s obvious that Sam knows that Dean isn’t interested in going. But that isn’t necessarily the entire truth. He does want to know where they’re going, he does want to spend a day, just one pretending like they aren’t who they are and their lives aren’t their own but that’s not his reality. He doesn’t want to have to wake up tomorrow and have renewed hope for something he knows isn’t truly his to have. 

He can’t say any of that to Sam though because he deserves to think that there’s something beyond where they are right now. He deserves something to look forward to. 

So he plasters on a forced smile and plays along for Sam’s benefit. And if John’s smile dims a bit he chooses to ignore it. 

xx

They end up at a Denny’s as their makeup Christmas surprise and as far as gifts go, food is always a winner. Dean’s still hungry after his cereal that morning but only eats enough to quell the hunger while Sam packs it away. 

He gets everything that he’s pushed around his plate for an hour boxed up and he can see the half-formed “you barely ate anything Dean” waiting to roll off of John’s tongue but he pushes it back down. 

Neither of them need to acknowledge why his stack of pancakes remain untouched. 

xx

They’re coming upon school number three within four months and it’s easiest to remember exactly why they hate the holidays when they walk into the halls of Franklinton High School. It seems as though John dropped them directly into the North Pole’s storage closet because there is tinsel strewn everywhere, garland lining the walls and hanging above the student lockers and a scary amount of faux snow nestled along the window sill of the main office. 

Dean rolls his eyes as he’s greeted by the school secretary, decked in festive colors and a matching Christmas hat and he doesn’t even push his bitch of a brother back when he elbows him in the ribs. 

“How can I help you boys?” the woman drawls out and Dean smiles a little at the slow and easy flow of her words. 

Sam as usual takes care of the talking. He’s learned early on that his cuteness is an advantage where most would lament a thin, lanky frame and soft features. He turns on his megawatt smile, dimples peeking out in sharp relief and Dean can see the woman melting for him right there. 

“Yes ma’am” Sam responds. “My brother and I just enrolled here a few days ago. Our dad settled everything and we’re just here to pick up our schedules.” 

“You two must be the Winchester boys” she says as she heads over to a bin on her desk. Dean assumes there’s a method to the madness when he glances at the stacks of papers that line her desk and is proven right when she comes back quickly with two papers listing their classes. 

“Here you go.” She hands them each their schedules, easily figuring them out and alerting them to where their second period classes are. 

They each give their thanks, Dean’s followed by a wink that causes the older woman to blush before heading out into the halls towards their rooms. The building is empty save for the few other students making their way towards the main office and they both take the opportunity to walk through, see where everything is and decide where they’ll meet up during their lunch periods. By the time they finish their little tour it’s ten minutes until the end of the period and neither of them are willing to risk the look that the teacher might give when they walk in and interrupt the closing of their lesson. So they wander towards the stairwell, both of them having to go that way for class: Dean’s Physics class at the far end of the hall and Sam’s Freshman Literature course the first door on the right. 

It’s an older school, not equipped with security cameras or even a mirror to catch students trying to hide in the recesses of the stairwell. The boys use this to their advantage, Sam pulling Dean in for a heated kiss, the soft slide of Sam’s tongue making tiny tendrils of heat settle low in his gut, before letting him go. Sam chuckles at the way Dean’s legs wobble slightly when he pulls back but it dies down almost immediately when Dean crowds back in on him, hands on either side of his head. 

His eyes are slightly blown and his breathing a little ragged when he pushes into Sam. “Later” he whispers in Sam’s ear and the one word is so full of promise that Sam’s on edge for the rest of the day. 

xx

Classes fly by in a blur, their teachers being kind enough to slow down the pace of their lessons so that they could slot into the flow of how things worked in each of their classes. They’d never had a situation quite like and Dean had to remind himself that it was only a temporary assignment and that he shouldn’t get attached to a place he probably wouldn’t remember a year from now. 

xx

Winchester Christmases had obviously never been traditional affairs, but Sam would’ve settled for a two inch table tree at any point to create the illusion of normality. As it were, he and Dean had never had a Christmas tree, had never had real, honest presents to put under one either. Though there was one year where Dean had gotten him a brand new pair of running shoes that he woke to find resting on the pillow beside him, Dean’s place vacated and cold. He refused to ask exactly how Dean had gotten them, just took the gift for what it was and hugged Dean extra tight. 

It’s now that Sam feels that he owes Dean, owes him more than any material gift could ever hope to express, even if he could afford one. 

So, he doesn’t even try for some cheap gift that wouldn't come close to showing his brother exactly how he feels. 

xx

Dean’s sitting on the couch with his Physics textbook laid out on the table as he does honest to God homework. Sam wishes that he had a camera to capture the concentration on Dean’s face that brings out the wrinkles in his forehead that he loves to smooth away with his thumbs or the way his pink tongue darts out whenever he’s trying to solve one of the harder equations. 

Sam doesn’t bother him, though he wants so badly to tell him to put it aside until later, because now is the “later” that he promised during school and Sam wants to cash in. 

He has something more important that he wants to do for his big brother, so he practices restraint and slips back over to their bed to finish working on his gift. 

30 minutes later

“Whatcha got there Sammy?” Dean questions as he looms over him, homework either finished or forgotten for the time being. 

“Nothing!” Sam says as he jerks his hand out of Dean’s reach so that he can’t see what he’s working on. 

At the way Sam’s voice goes up a few octaves Dean practically vibrates with excitement. 

“Aww, come on, just let me take a peek” Dean teases as he tries to latch on to one of Sam’s arms but he’s too quick for him, those deceptively thin legs good for something. 

“No Dean!” he screeches again, finally managing to stuff whatever it is in a bag in the corner and blocking Dean’s way so that he can’t reach it. 

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy” Dean rolls out, the lilt to his voice laced with mock disappointment. “Do you really think that you can keep a secret from me?” 

It’s not a question that he’s actually expecting an answer for so Sam doesn’t make the attempt, just drops his head and tries to hide his smile because even though he’ll be begging for mercy soon, he likes it when Dean gets like this. 

“Of course not” Sam replies sarcastically. “It’s not like I’m trying to hide nuclear launch codes, it’s just your Christmas present jerk.” 

Sam can see the moment Dean’s joviality slips away because his fingers stop where they were about to tickle Sam senseless until he relented and proclaimed Dean the best hunter in all the world. 

“Dean?” Sam asks and he tries to keep the hurt out of his voice but it’s no easy thing. 

“You know you didn’t have to get me anything” he responds after a few long moments, his head ducked so that he doesn’t have to look Sam in the eye. 

“Wha-” Sam starts but he stops to shake his head disbelievingly. “What do you mean I didn’t have to get you anything? I know I don’t have to do anything Dean, but I wanted to get something for you. It’s not like it cost me more than a few bucks to get the things I needed anyway.” 

Sam bends down to where the present is still stuffed in the corner bag, unzips it, and pulls it out carefully, smoothing out any stray wrinkles. 

It’s the first time Dean’s seen him unsure of himself in a while though, the reaction a little strange when he sees Sam rubbing the back of his neck and averting his eyes. 

“I-I was gonna wait until Christmas, but then I couldn’t so I wanted to give it to you today” he says as Dean turns it over and over in his hands. It’s tastefully done in paper made to look worn and with what Dean quickly realizes is adorned with several pressed flowers, the colors molding perfectly into the color of the paper. 

“What is it?” Dean questions as he makes quick work of the satin fastening holding the flaps together. 

“You have to open it to see” Sam says and Dean can hear the smile in his voice, the anticipation for Dean’s reaction.

There’s a little pouch on the inside holding the actual present and Sam bounces slightly in his spot just waiting for Dean to take out his gift. 

“I know it’s a little lame, but well you know it’s the best I could do.” And there it is again, that nervous energy that Dean’s just not used to seeing on his baby brother. It makes him that much more anxious to see what is even in the thing. 

It doesn’t take long for Dean to figure out what’s made Sam so damn nervous to give him his unexpected gift in the first place. They’d never done anything special for the holiday to begin with and this, well this was a lot more than he could ever have hoped for. 

_One Christmas Eve blowjob- anywhere you want it_

_Rimming- once Dean, only once so you better use this one wisely_

_Shower Sex- you can even jerk me off with that fruity conditioner you like_

There were at least six more like those in there and Dean was already hard in his pants at the prospect of his dick being anywhere near Sam’s hole. 

They’d never gone that far before, Dean thinking that to even suggest it would ruin this fragile understanding they had between them. But, it seemed as though Sam’s brain was running along the same lines that Dean’s was, as it always did. 

Dean sits his tickets to nonstop sex down on the bed before walking over to Sam who’s still waiting impatiently for Dean to say something, anything about the gift. Dean pushes him back into the wall then, forgoing words and falling to his knees to show him just how grateful he is for him this holiday season. 

Christmas comes on time this year and Dean couldn’t have been happier.


End file.
